


The Girl With The Nothing Heart

by AliceAro



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Knotting, Light Bondage, Monster sex, Multi, Naga, Polyamory, Sex first feelings later, Smut, Threesome, Warning just in case, Werewolf Muriel, Werewolves, dubious consent but not rape, naga asra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-11-13 20:39:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18038621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceAro/pseuds/AliceAro
Summary: Even after killing her captor, a certain magician is still trapped and bound by both magic and chains. Luckily for her, a naga  and a werewolf want to help free her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well guess who's writing smut instead of doing her thesis. 
> 
> THIS DEGENERANT RIGHT HERE! 
> 
> Anyways I mostly want this to be smut so let's just get the plot out of the way with the first few chapter.

The tendrils of her magic swept the area around her, seeking and searching. They stretched out for what felt like miles but there seemed to be only an unmeasurable void beyond her. On her command, the tendrils curled back and wrapped around her. She felt the pulsing energy against her soul but not on her skin. Unsurprising, considering that all her senses have been ripped away from her.  
  
Knowing with certainty that there were heavy chains around her hands and shackles locked on her neck and ankles, but she felt neither the weight nor the tightness. She could not feel anything. None of her senses worked. The metal gag coated with paralytic, basilisk blood on her tongue should have tasted bitter and coppery. The nullifying agent injected and oozing from under her nails and eyes should have smelled foul. If her ears were working, the chitter of the animals and insects would have told her the hour of the day. And of course, she was blinded by both magic and a bandage covering her eyes. Effectively barring her from seeing where the slaver driving the carriage was taking her.  
  
The girl sighed. Or at least she thought she did. It was impossible to tell. She could not even sense if air was passing in and out of her lungs. What an absolutely ridiculous situation she was in.  
  
Because Nykol was a powerful magician.  
  
The Arcana granted her this power she so coveted. But for a price. One she gladly paid. Because the card creatures told her that the cost was suffering the ill intent and nature of humans and monsters alike. She had thought this was something she already endured.  
  
Humans could only attain magic from non-humans. Gifts from creatures of this world or the worlds beyond it.  
  
But Nykol was different.  
  
Even without the Arcana’s gifts, she was already endowed with the ability to see into any person’s past, present, or future. A talent that has earned her the envy of humans who were rarely gifted with magic and the ire of monsters who though her to be an undeserving human. It did not help that she did not yield these abilities for anyone’s benefit. No matter the gold or fame that was promised to her. So people and creatures wished her misfortune for her selfishness. And sometimes made an effort to do her harm.  
  
So she made the bargain.  
  
And the consequences came soon after.  
  
Because the Arcana knew her heart. The otherworldly creatures saw her true want. Her truest, dearest wish above all else.  
  
To be wanted.  
  
Not for the magic she wielded but for who she was. Except she had not truly known who she was. Or rather what she was.  
  
Before, the magic she had was strange and limited. She had no real control over it when she should have been able to do feats beyond clairvoyance. Her magic had a mind of its own and she did not know what it was doing until the pact was sealed.  
  
It did not take long after the deal to discover she was a _primemaiden._ A human capable of bearing any creature’s offspring. In other words… a glorified breeding bitch.  
  
Her magic had been beyond her control because it had hidden her. Masked her scents and prevented her body from ripening. And though she had ask for power and the subsequent control, she did not ask for knowledge. She did not know how to hide herself once more.  
  
Now no one cared that she had magic. Because they had wanted her, but for her body instead.  
  
They had destroyed her home trying to drag her out into the streets. Flames devoured the humble shack that had housed her all her life. The sight numbed her and she stop fighting for a time. She almost didn’t realize that she was brought before human kings and monster lords. The people and creatures faced each other on a field of bones and swords, roaring and shouting their threats and demands, but Nykol didn’t hear any of it.  
  
There was an unfamiliar feeling in her chest and she wondered, not for the first time, if she had enough of a heart for it to break.  
  
Then blood began to spill. The world focused around her and it was in chaos.  
  
Nykol ran.  
  
Her magic carried her swiftly away from the battleground, not caring to look back. If she was pursued, it did not matter for she was miles away in a matter of minutes. As she ran, the solid soil under her feet turned into shifting sand. Still she ran and stopped only when legs could carry her no more. She collapsed in the middle of a desert, her face in the sand. Blood roared in her ears as she tried to steady her breathing. The ringing in her mind was louder as the horrors of the day settled unwelcomed against her bones.  
  
She should weep. Her situation was destitute. But the tears didn’t come. They never come.  
  
Because she was Nykol, the girl with a nothing heart.  
  
She did not feel the way others do. Did not want for anything the way everyone around her did. And even as she saw that she was missing something, that she was incomplete, she did not care to be ‘whole.’  
  
No, that’s not what she really wanted.  
  
The Arcana knew though. The voices of the cards promised to grant her everything she desired. She thought that had been power because her magic had always sparked something in her inexperience soul. She thought that if she strengthened it, it would lead to something more… just something more.  
  
“What are you all planning?”  
  
Because she did not understand the Arcana’s intentions. And they never did anything without reason.  
  
The voices from another realm hummed and chattered in her head. They were loud and unclear. She needed her cards to properly hear them. A burning hut flashed in her mind. She bit back a sigh and pushed herself up on her knees.  
  
The sun was setting and day was growing colder. She needed to move. But to where?  
  
Before she could come up with an answer, a carriage had pulled up beside her. It was strange to not have heard it until it got up close, but the girl cared more about the small thump on wonder she felt when she beheld the animal pulling it.  
  
A juvenile basilisk, slightly smaller than a horse, flicked its tongue at her. She stared back in a daze. With an effort, she pulled her attention away from the legless lizard.  
  
The human man driving the carriage was asleep and leaning precariously forward. When he was about to fall over, the basilisk pushed him upright with its tail, jolting the man wake.  
  
“Huh, what?” The man said hoarsely. “Why have you stopped moving, snake?”  
  
“Basilisks are lizards.” She said without meaning to.  
  
The man jerked back, his eyes snapping up to meet hers in surprise. He glared.  
  
“Are you an idiot? Do you see legs on this thing?”  
  
“Not all lizards have legs.”  
  
The man sneered. “Ridiculous child.” He looked around. “Where is your traveling group? Your carriage? Why are you alone in the middle of a desert?”  
  
She did not answer. The man glared once more.  
  
“Did you think to travel these wasteland on foot? You are truly a stupid girl.” The man pulled the reins. He barked at the basilisk. “Let’s go!”  
  
The lizard did not move. Only flicked its gaze from her to the driver then back to her.  
  
“No, we’re leaving her.” The man snapped the reins. The basilisk did not budge.  
  
“Oh, for the love of- Fine!” In one strong movement, the man jumped off his carriage and step up to her. He held out a hand. “Come with me. I’ll take you to a port.”  
  
His words were little more than a grumble, clearly unhappy to humor the whims of a reptile. Still she suppose she should be grateful for his begrudging help. She placed her hand in his. The man quickly brushed his thumb on her fingernails and pulled her up.  
  
“Dust yourself off. I don’t want sand in my carriage.” She did what she was told. Her arms felt a little strange. They seem to be shaking. Perhaps this was fear finally catching up to her. She couldn’t be sure. She wished she was more well-acquainted with fear. Did it always make everything smell so foul?  
  
She turned back to the man and swayed. Her head connected against something hard.  
  
“What the hell is wrong with you?” The voice was right on her ear. Her head must be on the man’s shoulder. The man tried to push her off, his finger pressing painfully against the skin under her ears. She tried to stand upright.  
  
“I’m sorry.” She slurred. That awful smell was stronger now, giving her a migraine. “I must be really tired.”  
  
‘If you’re going to puke do so now, not in my carriage.”  
  
“I’m not going to puke!” She said indignantly even as her vision blurred. “I just, just, need a minute.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Why did she feel so wrong?  
  
Belatedly, she remembered she had magic and knew of a simple healing spell. She has never successfully casted a spell other than her readings, but she dedicated years to studying several spell books. She could do this.  
  
A minute passed. Nothing happened.  
  
The man clicked his tongue and the girl heard a shuffling noise. A vial of red liquid appeared under her nose. She took in gingerly.  
  
“Drink it. It should help with motion sickness.” Again, she did what she was told.  
  
And when the coppery taste spread over her tongue, the man’s gruff voice turned smoothed and soft. Gentle fingers touched her chin and tilted her head up.  
  
“Oh my masters will be so pleased with you.” The laughter in his voice was melodic. “Foolish girl.”  
  
The doors of the carriage bursted open and chains shot out.  
  
Foolish indeed. It was all an act. The strange encounter, the unfriendly demeanor, the stalling, it was all meant to get her to let her guard down as he subtlety poisoned her.  
  
Nykol had to applaud the man. He was not only clever, but also cautious. Even as he had her bound and gagged, he place spell after spell on her sealing in all her senses and much of her magic.  
  
She had heard of men like this. Human slavers who sold his kind to the monster lords the ruled beyond the human lands in exchange for magical gifts. She wondered what price a _primemaiden_ like her would fetch. Because she’s sure he knew what she was all along.  
  
With another sigh, Nykol let her magic examined the bindings again. This man must of sold many humans to be gifted so much magic. It had taken her hours to study it all with the little magic that remained with her.  
  
Her captor did a marvelous job trapping her in this fake abyss. It was fine, she guessed, as she unspooled more of the magic she was regenerating.  
  
It would take months for her to undo his work. But she only needed a little more time to be his undoing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They can't help. And they don't need to. Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's done with her thesis! THIS BITCH!!!

The smell of myrrh caressed his senses and gently called him away from his dreams. He did not open his eyes to the waking world, choosing to stay in a state of half-sleep. However, he did still see in his mind’s eye the way his friend’s lovable face twisted in exasperation. The big guy tried to silently shuffle off without waking him, but a lazy flick of his forked tongue let the other male know that he already failed that goal. The frustrated noise that followed was more of a groan than his usual growl.  
  
“Get off the ground.”  
  
“Even if I stand up, I’ll still be on the ground.”  
  
“You know what I mean.”  
  
“Do I? I don’t even have feet to stand on. Majority of my body will always be on the ground.”  
  
“Why do you do this?”  
  
The white-haired naga prince only yawned as if that was his response. With a slight smile and eyes still closed, he settled his scaly body more comfortably on the cool mossy soil of the forest. For a moment, it seemed he had fallen back to sleep. Then his sweet, airy voice purred in response.  
  
“What choice do you give me? This is the only way to find you these days.”  
  
Asra had an unusually massive reptilian body that went on for great lengths. He was twice as long as a normal naga giving him the ability to cover large areas of the forest floor. His tail laid across vast sections of the magical woodlands because it made in nearly impossible for anyone traveling through not to run into a part of him. Every inch of him was highly sensitive to the surroundings. This made it very difficult for a particular forest-dwelling werewolf to avoid stumbling over his annoyingly clever friend and alerting him to his presence. The mountain monster-man rubbed his large hand against his eyes, sighing tiredly.  
  
“It’s dangerous for you to do this. Exposing yourself like this leaves you very vulnerable to attack.”  
  
Asra finally opened his eyes and felt a pang of guilt upon seeing his friend's worried face.  
  
“I have a very thick hide." He reassured him. "Also all the forest creatures are familiar with me.”  
  
“And what about those not of the forest.”  
  
“No one goes through here cause it’s private territory. That’s why you like it.”  
  
“Someone could still trespass.”  
  
“What are the chances of that happening?”  
  
Just then Asra gasped as his entire serpent body involuntarily jerked. A loud, violent crash echoed from somewhere not far off followed by a cry of shock. The two males looked at each other in confusion.  
  
“Well, something hit me.”  
  
The werewolf groaned.  
  
"And you didn't sense it coming because...?"  
  
"I was... distracted." He provided lamely.  
  
“Let’s just go see what it was.”  


* * *

There were too many people in his forest. More than one person, his own person, is too many. They all needed to leave. Or maybe he should leave. Maybe if he made the effort, he could learn enough magic to create a gate to his own personal sanctuary. No one would be allowed there except himself and Inanna.  
  
Oh, who the hell was he kidding? His prince will find a way to whatever dimension he was occupying and lovingly bother him there.  
  
Fine. He’d settle for getting rid of the owners of the two scents currently wafting through the air. One male. One female. They seemed to be both completely human. Oh joy. Just great. Cause they really needed to interact with a pair of redundantly, stupid humans foolish enough to travel into monster territories. Today was just going to be awful. When will it be over?  
  
Muriel dug his canines into his tongue to keep himself from sighing too loudly. Not that he cared, but Asra might think his presence was unwelcome. It was unwanted, but it was not unwelcomed. Not that he’d ever tell him that. Or, again, maybe he should. Asra is not a male who is easily offended and it would perhaps convince the naga to leave him alone every now and then. Despite Asra's beliefs, Muriel finds peace in solitude. Even if he was lonely, which he wasn't, the loneliness doesn't ruin that peace.  
  
The werewolf had to stop internally mulling his options when he spotted the crash site a little ways off. The trespasser was on the ground, gritting his teeth while he shakily got up. Muriel stopped abruptly when he saw the stranger's cloak. The seal brooch bared the unmistakable symbol of an enemy monster King. His wolf eyes widen further as he took in the carriage where he scented the rust of metal chains and the flesh of a young female. This man was a slaver.  
  
Muriel let out a low hissed and stepped protectively closer to Asra. On his friend’s part, Asra bared his first fangs as the round pupils of his eyes turned into sharp slits.  
  
“Filthy bastard.” His friend’s voice was rarely anything but warm and mischievous. Now it was a cold and unforgiving rumble in his throat. Each hissing breath came with a promise of a painful death. A swift retribution to those who dared venture in his territory while serving those vile kings. “These lands are my home. No servant of the Reverse monarchy is welcome here.”  
  
“You can’t kill him.” Muriel said quickly. “The treaties protect those marked special like him.”  
  
“Is there someone in that carriage?” Asra asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
Muriel didn’t response.  
  
“Muriel, do you scent someone in that carriage?”  
  
“We can’t kill him.” He hated himself even as he said it. “No one is worth starting a war over.”  
  
Asra curled his hands into fist.  
  
“Fine. We don’t kill him. We just free whoever is inside.”  
  
“See the lock on the carriage. It’s a life-link ward. We can’t open it without killing him.”  
  
Muriel flinched back when he heard an absolutely feral growl. He looked at his friend and his heart dropped. He had never seen Asra like this. Venom was starting to foam around the corners of the prince’s mouth. The hard muscles of his tail constricted and flexed in barely restrained aggression as his body coiled into a killing stance. His true fangs, which the werewolf had never seen before, were unsheathed and terrifyingly sharp. With each passing second, Asra shifted more completely into a monster that even monsters would fear.  
  
"Asra?" He wondered if his voice was as raw as he felt.  
  
_“So we’re just going to do nothing!”_  
  
He tried not to cry in relief as he still recognized his friend in his words.  
  
“There’s no other choice-”  
  
Muriel was cut off by a scream. The naga and werewolf turned their heads to the slaver’s direction and watched a horror unfold.  
  
The flesh of the slaver’s arms rippled and then slipped off. Unfurling like bandage and leaving only sinew and muscle tissue behind. His screams of agony was cut off as guts started spewing out of his mouth. A sickening crack resounded from man’s body. He didn’t even get to scream before three more cracks followed. A glanced down revealed to his terror that both legs were each fractured in two places. A foul odor spread in the air as the man wet himself.  
  
“Oh gods. Gods! SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!” Pale red blood started to seep from his pores. As it oozed, it grew darker until it not only blackened but also sizzled. His blood was boiling and burning him both inside and out. The screams that followed were tortured and short. The man was dead in a matter of moments.  
  
Unbearable silence was all the followed. The two friends along with the whole forest seemed to hold its breath in fear of whatever monstrous magic just took place. For a moment, all was still.  
  
Then a loud click echoed through the air.  
  
And the lock on the carriage fell off with a heavy thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be smut. At least I hope so. It's hard for me to write porn without a plot. But I want to!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heavy price paid. A chance given with no cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have failed yet again! I promised smut but I instead here is more exposition. I fear this is going to be a bigger story than I originally intended. OTL
> 
> Still, I hope you all enjoy!

Nykol had never know pain to be so hateful and cruel. This pain was not just a horrible sensation. Not a hurt one suffers through only to be eased and forgotten. It was devoid of any such hope. There was no indifference or mindlessness in its torment. It was intimate. It was malicious. It was _alive._  
  
Alive enough to demand more than she could give. Alive enough to give more than she can bear. This was an entity that knew nothing else, existed for nothing else, and desired for nothing else but the complete ruination of her and her alone.  
  
The young magician knew this and still she created it. An agony designed especially for her was the asking price. Not for her freedom. But for revenge. Revenge for all that she has lost and have yet to lose. Revenge that she threw blindly and wasted on the slaver who played only a small part in her misfortunes. The man would die from the most hellish torture. In exchange, she will live in a different kind of hell.  
  
It occurs to her that she may have made a mistake.  
  
For the first time, her heart had told her to retaliate. To seek retribution. Had it led her astray? Because for one moment, the feeling was there. In the next, it was gone. Now her heart left her with nothingness once more. And she is unable to recall how it felt when it spoke to her.  
  
She’ll remember this pain, however. Even if and when she somehow dispels it and it is gone, she will remember. It will change her somehow. The prospect is rather haunting.  
  
When she calls, her magic responses strangely. The magic felt as shaky and unsure as she felt about making another deal. Still she can stand the pain no more. She must make a new bargain. Even knowing that the first two have already cost her so much. A third could be the end of her.  
  
The thought, however, doesn’t really scare her. For perhaps then, her heart would finally work as it should.  


* * *

Something was wrong with his friend. Asra was showing clear signs of going through a frenzy. Muriel had attributed it to the prince’s natural territorial tendencies triggered by his hatred of the Reverse Kingdom’s minions in his own lands. However, the slaver was dead. Practically nothing of him remained except the overpowering scent of his terror as he died.  
  
No, this was a different sort of frenzy. It went beyond any ordinary compulsion to protect that which was already his. This was not a compulsion at all. It was an urge, a desire. A need. An all-consuming need to not only take, but to _possess._ Muriel can see it in the hungry, predatory way Asra stalks towards the carriage.  
  
His friend wanted to mate.  
  
“Stop.” There was a small, weird ache in his heart at the thought of his friend showing interest in anyone. Muriel didn’t really notice it. However, the ice cold dread that filled his heart at the thought of his friend being attracted to a human capable of such terrible magic is unmistakable. He has to do something. “Whoever is in there is dangerous!”  
  
Ever so slowly, Asra turns back to his friend. Relief floods through Muriel even as he sees that Asra barely manages it with much difficulty. The prince’s voice wobbles as he speaks.  
  
“Is… is there a chance she is not responsible?” The acknowledgement of gender grates at Muriel's nerves.  
  
“Who else could it be?” Muriel wants to grab the prince and take him far away from the carriage as possible. He almost does when Asra turns back. He will not lose his friend to this human  
  
“Doesn’t matter.” Again, familiar self-loathing fills Muriel as he readied his magic to knock out Asra if he needs to. “I have to get to her-”  
  
Before either male could do anything, a long, slender body of black scales strikes the carriage door. The reptilian mass slithers in and immediately slithers back out. There was a human girl clad in an alarming amount of both magical and ordinary restraints in the basilisk’s coils. It was jarring to know such a small female was the source of the killing magic. Still, Muriel was ready to end the girl if he needed to. So it surprises him when he’s heart did a painful lurch as he sees the girl trembling in obvious agony in the large serpent’s grip.  
  
The basilisk brings its muzzle to the girl’s forehead in a motion to soothe her. The girl’s hair is damp with sweat and the reptile somehow pushes it aside with care. It does nothing to help, however. The girl doesn’t even seem to register it. Instead, the girl whimpers and convulses in violent tremors. Her screams are still audible but muffled through the gags. The black creature turns its depthless eyes on him and his friend and blinks once.  
  
_Help her._  
  
The force of nature is the voice that sounds in his head. Muriel flinches back in shock and he immediately wishes he didn’t. In the same moment, Asra lurches forward and gathers the girl protectively in his arms. Magic shifts around the girl and whirled in the air around his friend. Without meaning to, Muriel shifts as well.  
  
A werewolf growls.  
  
The man in beast form is quickly challenged as the black basilisk uncoils itself from the girl. It leaves her in the care of the oblivious naga as the prince tries to work his own magic. The basilisk places itself in from of Muriel. It hisses in warning once. Twice.  
  
_Help. Her. **Only.**_  
  
Later, Muriel would be very grateful that he did not get a chance to attack such a fantastic creature. His fear was never really an ally he could depend on. However, fear is all he knows when he smells the changed scent of the girl.  
  
He no longer feels terrified for his friend’s life. No, the emotion he now feels is jealousy. Because such a beautiful female was in his friend’s arms.  
  
Instead of _his._  
  
Asra turns to look at him and Muriel knows the prince is aware of the raw want burning through his veins. The naga bares his fangs. The werewolf does that same. Both males ready to compete for the female they now desired.  
  
Pain flares somewhere in Muriel’s stomach and he grunts. It isn’t excruciating but it seizes all his focus nonetheless. When he hears a similar grunt from Asra, Muriel concludes that they were attack by the same creature.  
  
The black basilisk hisses in irritation as small droplets of their blood drip from its maw. Impatience for the males’ territorial bullshit shines evident in its eyes.  
  
_Unbind. NOW!_  
  
The voice that rings in his head this time was alarmingly livid. It’s enough to sober Muriel from whatever intoxication he had fallen under. Asra seems similarly tempered though he still holds the girl gently in his arms. The naga addresses the angry serpent for the first time.  
  
“What happened to her?” The question is accompanied by an almost absent-minded rocking motion as Asra continues to cradle girl.  
  
No voice sounds in his head this time though the creature must still be talking to Asra. The prince’s eyes flash in horror.  
  
_“A primemaiden?!”_  
  
The horrors of the day just refuse to end. The implication of having such a female. This would tip the scales. Change the tides. Utterly turn the world upside down. The kingdoms would…. Muriel can’t think of it. It’s all too much to process right now.  
  
He closes his eyes and shifts. When he is more of himself again, he opens his eyes to see that prince staring at him. He holds the girl up like a bride in his arms.  
  
“She can’t feel anything but pain.” Asra explains without prompt. His voice strains in worry. “A bargain was struck with what little magic she had. The price to kill her captor was pain. The bindings are blocking all her senses. None of them work. She can neither hear nor feel. She doesn’t even know we are here.”  
  
Despite knowing that it does nothing for the girl, Asra still rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on the girl’s knee and shoulder.  
  
“Nothing can ease the pain if she doesn’t have her senses.” Asra looks at the girl. The lilacs and indigos of his eyes shine with such genuine tenderness. “Let’s take her to your hut. Maybe one of your charms can help her.”  
  
Muriel wants to deny him. Convince him to let go of the female and get the basilisk to return her to the human lands. Those thoughts, however, horrify him more than he cares to admit. It may only trouble him to leave the girl to suffer further without help. But it would break his heart to never see her again. It is all very ridiculous. He didn’t even know her name.  
  
Still, he reaches out and takes the girl from Asra’s arms. The prince looks at him questioningly but thankfully doesn’t protest.  
  
“I’ll carry her.” The feel of her soft skin against him stirs something in him once more. Fortunately, he easily pushes it aside. Distracted by the pain as her weight causes the wound on his side to throb.  
  
He sharply glares at the basilisk.  
  
“I’ll need your hands free to heal the wounds this stupid snake gave us.”  
  
Muriel turns away and doesn't see the lizard roll its eyes at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the person who brought the basilisk's potential to my attention! By integrating the creature to the story line, I found a way to make it more consensual! Plus I really love reptiles so that's a huge bonus. Hehe. ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Okay in all seriousness, I can't keep writing this because I really need to do my thesis. I need to graduate and as much as I want to rite I can't. Sorry.
> 
> EDIT: MY THESIS IS DONE!!


End file.
